


Brand

by SuperLeon



Series: Amazing Assassin Duo [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassins, Branding, Burns, M/M, Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperLeon/pseuds/SuperLeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James has a scar on his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand

**Author's Note:**

> This one I started in September of 2014. Bonus points if you can tell where I continued from.

"Do you not like to talk about it?"

James can vaguely feel Seth tracing the lines of the burn on his back. He can't imagine the scar looking like much anymore, and almost doesn't say anything to confirm his suspicions.

"There's nothing to talk about."

He shifts in the bed, which feels relatively small, so that they're facing each other again. Seth meets his eyes directly, not giving up with an answer like that. Like always, he wouldn't give up until he was completely satisfied with what he'd been given.

"It didn't hurt? Did you cry? You were, what? Fifteen when that happened?"

"It hurt, I cried, the end."

"What did it used to say?"

"Letters. I dunno."

James made an attempt to smother him in somewhat of an embrace, sliding his hand underneath the blond and between he and the mattress. He'd closed his eyes, hoping Seth would, for once, just give up on something he'd brought up. For a moment, James seemed to have won the battle.

"But weren't you upset?"

He'd slid his hand to a similar position only to reach behind James and trace along the scar again. He had to have had it memorized by now.

"Of course I was."

"How long? Like, a day? Does it still hurt now?"

"No, Seth."

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me the story."

The brunette sighed, frustrated, and pulled away from him.

"It's entirely nothing, Seth. There's nothing interesting about it. Some guy came to take me out of my room, they brought me outside, and they branded me. Anything else?"

Seth was still lying on his side, head against his arm. Absently, he went to play with a few strands of his hair.James could see right through him. He muttered a small "sure", which most likely translated into "I'll just bother you tomorrow, and if I don't get what I want by then I'll find a way to go through your personal records."

Or something along those lines.

James sighed, settling back down in the bed.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes, please."

"Ok. I was scared, all right? Of course I was scared. I was just a kid, a kid that was convinced that I would never see my parents again unless it was in a body bag. A kid that just saw all of his friends get shot down in front of him before being dragged away to some abandoned building at the edge of town. I cried, I was upset. They told me that I needed to shut-up before they changed their minds and got rid of me, too."

James could remember everything more vividly than he ever wanted. He remembered the brick walls with the chipping white paint that fell to the ground every now and again when the slightest gust of air hit them. He remembered the musty smell of the flattened mattress that sat in the corner of the room just underneath the barred-off little window that was too high for him to reach. He remembered the busted door knob that would jingle whenever someone decided to come in.

It was the smell. The smell of something burning, the sounds of laughter coming from the little courtyard behind the building. The leader was there, looking as smug and disgusting as James could remember, sneering at him after he and his friends had a laugh. A pole was in the middle of the yard, covered in rust and dried blood, a chain around the bottom. James would remember that pole for as long as he lived, but not for this.

"Hold him still."

He didn't know what was happening at first. Wasn't sure if he'd be terrified or relieved if they'd just decided to kill him then and there. But he caught a glimpse of the branding iron just before they'd turned him around and forced his shirt off of him. He remembered the pictures he'd seen from his father and in the history books. His face was pressed into the dirt as he screamed, struggling. A knee was placed on his back, keeping him down with the weight. The burning smell was getting closer to him. Someone yanked his hair when he wouldn't sit still.

He'd been burned before, when the nanny wasn't paying attention and he decided to reach up on the ironing board, or when his mother turned away while cooking and he was too short to see the stove and decided to reach up with his little, inexperienced hands. It was nothing like this. He could smell his flesh burning under the heat of the iron, screamed as loud as he could. 

When he came to again he was back in his prison. His back was sore, and just the thought made tears fall again. He was branded, like an animal. He was their property as far as they were concerned. He wondered why they hadn't decided to just kill him.

Back in the present, James can feel Seth's fingers still tracing the outline of the raised scars.

"And you ended up killing him for that?"

"No...for a lot of things."

"I mean...I know. But this was one of them?"

James shifts in the bed to get to a more comfortable position. He pulls Seth against him again and this time the blond leaves his scar alone.

"I guess it was."

**Author's Note:**

> I suddenly kind of like writing for these two again. It's always some strange character study with them.


End file.
